Aadeline: Beasts of Burden
by maliasaur
Summary: The story of a young girl in post apocolypse Spain. She lives in a world of monarchy, resistance, and constant danger from the invading Other armies.
1. Chapter 1

Step, twirl, pirouette, spin, back to base, and curtsy.

My feet were sore from the movements. My shoes were tied far too tight, and I had been doing the same routine for hours. My governess stepped down from the stereo booth with pointed feet. "What are you doing, Aadeline? Get up! The Duke of Rowan's ball is soon to come and you must prove your worth, Dear." She remarked in her shrill British tongue.

I bit back another retort, knowing full well that would happen if I didn't. I took a deep breath and stood at stiff attention. The reflection of my deadened face gazed wordlessly at me from the mirrored wall. It followed my every mechanical movement across the ballroom. The sharp clap of Miss Underwood echoing over and over to a dismal beat.

After practice I laid sprawled across my bed, face down. My body was sore, but I knew today would be my last day of freedom before the ball next week. My arms were too weak to push myself up from the bed, so I just rolled until the edge of the bed supported only my upper half. I sat up and pulled my boots onto my feet, laced them, and made my way down the stairs and into the kitchen. There were freshly peeled carrots in the fourth bin and I grabbed some of the sugar cubes from the jar of the third coffee machine. I quickly went out the sliding door on the kitchen porch and slipped out to the stables.

I was greeted by the many familar stable-hands and the daughter of one quickly sat up from a grooming stool in the corner. She smiled and ran over, "Miss Anna! Anna!" I smiled as she wrapped her little arms around my waist. "Why hello Archer," I said, "Are you ready to help me saddle Cameron today?" She nodded and walked toward his stall.

"Miss Anna, did you 'ear about the new head chef? 'E's supposta be very youn' lookin'." I shook my head and she continued to tell me about the new chef from the Nort-Euro Domain.

When we got to his stall Cameron as already leaning forward, watching us very carefully. He stomped once and I handed him one of the carrots. It disappeared quickly from my hand. He licked his lips and stomped twice more; signaling me to give him the sugar cubes. Those two were also soon gone, and he had turned his back to us. I knew Cameron and I would never connect like the other riding pairs in the stable, but we still had a comfortable respect for each other. I patted Archer on the head and sent her on her way, then quickly saddled Cameron and left the stables.

His hooves thundered across the ground as the world whipped past us in a brilliant blur. We quickly rode past the marker for hallowed ground and into the forest that emitted darkness even on a sunny afternoon like today. Cameron galloped faster and soon jumped over the wood-post border for my family's land. I could see my breath smoke out from my lips as the temperature dropped.

A twig snapped; then a flash of brindle off to the left. Cameron's ears folded forward and his spiked metal shoes smashed into something large seconds later. He gave a whiney of delight as the creature's form shrank into a more human-esqe form. Cameron turned and galloped back to the tree line.

When we returned I quickly unsaddled him and brushed his coat free of briers. He trotted in place merrily, leaving deep impressions in the dirt and hay. I smiled; the war horse knew he was going to be fed well tonight.

As I walked into the great room on the first floor, I noticed the TV was on. Strange as the cartoon figures seemed, they did shed some light on who was in the room. Obviously neither of my parents would be home for a while, but none of my many younger relatives were visiting. I walked in and saw a tall figure strewn across the sofa. He gave a loud snort that made me jump, but rolled over in peaceful sleep. I gazed at his dark shaggy hair and freckles that dotted his cheeks. He had facial hair, but it was in a goatee, a style that is usually worn by a common solider or worker.

I reached down and poked his cheek. His face twitched, but he didn't wake. I poked him again, but he just frowned and swatted at my hand. I poked his cheek a third time, but with no such luck as to raise him from his sleep. Finally, feed up with waiting I quickly smacked his cheek and ducked behind the sofa.

I felt him stand up behind me. He grumbled something, stretched, and walked out of the room towards the kitchen.

I arose, brushed my pants off and left in the opposite direction of the kitchen.

My mother returned home that night, around ten.


	2. Chapter 2

After about an hour's worth of noise from the foyer, she knocked on my door. I, of course, immediately swung open to her touch. Her frail frame stepped through the door. Her face was usually stoic, like an eternal statue, but more age lines near her eyes showed her age. Her sharp eyes glowed behind thin rectangular frames of her glasses, but they were high on the bridge of her nose; meaning the treaty with the Irions of Ruusland. She gave me a slight smile.

"Have your teachings been well?"

"Yes, mother."

"Good, I wish to see you tomorrow during breakfast. We will discuss more then." She said with a curt nod and she left.

My mother and I were never very close; but I cherished the few moments I shared with my father while he was at home, or made a call. My parents were the only surviving creators of the O.A.R. program, and thus in the collapse in 2012, they became the most powerful people on the planet.

I waited until all the noise from the foyer had stopped, then snuck down the stairs and into the kitchen.

The nearest fridge was still a few yards from the main entryway. The cold tiles felt good as my bare feet silently tip-toed toward the first fridge. Just as I reached for the sleek handle, the lights were flicked on.

"Uhm…" a voice said from the doorway. It wasn't familiar, so I wouldn't be in any trouble. I turned around and saw the boy who was sleeping on the sofa earlier. He stared back, but said nothing. I turned back around and grabbed one of the sandwiches, and began to walk back out of the room. "You know you I can't let you leave with that right?" he asked.

"Why?" I replied; mouth already full with the peanut buttery goodness. "Because," he said, walking toward the table, "I'd prefer to see my delicacy enjoyed." He handed me a plate and a glass of milk.

"Are you the new head chef?" I asked, unable to stop and chew. He nodded and smiled. It was strange for me to talk with anyone so near my age. All my relatives were too young, too old, or far too busy with their social lives to sit down and make small talk.

"This is rather good for a sandwich. What's in it?" I asked. He shrugged, "Peanut butter, jelly, a hint of cinnamon. The usual."

"How old are you?" I wondered aloud. He looked like a was a few years older, nineteen at the most, but his eyes gave away something much different. "Oh, I'm just twenty-seven of last Saturday."

I nearly spewed milk in his face. "But you look so young!" I nearly shouted. He just nodded, "It's a blessing and a curse. No one takes me seriously at first glance.' I nodded and took the last bite of my sandwich. He grabbed my empty dishes and began to wash them in the sink. I got up as well and began to wash the dishes in the sink next to him.

After a few moments of silence he whispered, "I can tell by the way you hold those that you aren't a part of the cooking or cleaning staff." I smiled, "Is it really that obvious?" He just chuckled, "So tell me, whom have I just served the most-delicious-piece-of culinary-cuisine-ever-created to?"

"Why does that matter?" I asked. He shrugged. "Everyone matters." He replied. I cocked my head to the side. "Even Wihwins, Lycans, bloodsuckers, and all of the Others?" I asked.

He nodded, "Because without the Others, we'd have no reason for O.A.R. or even the royalty. I looked at him, straight on, the man was far to smart for a simple chef. "are you a member of the Resistance?" I asked without blatting a lid. His eyes flashed, but he just smiled, "What do I look like a crazy fanatic?"

"No, but your much more intelligent than our last chef."

He just shrugged again and scratched his head. We stood in silence before he stretched and walked toward the staff quarters. "Well I'm off to bed," he turned, "but it was very nice meeting you Miss Aadeline" with that he was gone.

He was definitely not just a chef. I turned and walked back to my room.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning I awoke to the blazing sun shinning through my window. It was late autumn, so my clock read only nine. I'd have to be downstairs and dressed in thirty minutes to beat my mother and governess to the dining hall. Of course I quickly did so to avoid either one's wrath.

I sat down at the long mahogany table and unfolded my napkin onto my lap. One of the servers quickly placed an omelet on the side of my plate and a grilled cheese sandwich on the other. I looked at her in confusion; she frowned and sighed. "I'm sorry Miss, but he insisted I bring it to you rather than 'just fruit'". I smiled and nodded. Her face looked relieved, but she quickly rushed off to lay out other dishes.

I looked down at the sandwich and picked it up hesitantly, as I did so large chunks dropped from my sandwich and back onto the plate. I grimaced, and then looked down at the mess. The pieces that had fallen out formed a big, gooey, lopsided grin. I almost burst out in laughter, but quickly at it instead. My mother wouldn't be so amused with the Chef's antics.

She entered at exactly nine thirty. I always watched the clock in hopes she wouldn't, but the woman was always on time. She was already dressed in a business skirt-suit. Her glasses were barely hanging onto the bridge of her nose. I could tell there had been some complications with the Defense Head of the O.A.R. She had a newspaper and a black portfolio with the O.A.R. insignia; she obviously had much more reading to do.

Good, then this meeting will be brief. She sighed and scanned the front cover of the Eyupia newsletter. Then began breakfast.

She took the first sip of her coffee, and the interrogation began:

"How have your lessons with the historians been?"

"Fine mother, we have just finished why the Mongol collapse also led to the fall of the Byzantines.

"The Mongol collapse?"

"Yes m'am. When a large plague killed many of the Mongol khanates and most of the populations they controlled. However, the Golden Horde survived due to their placement further away from the Silk Road than the other khanates."

"Good. What about the mathematicians?"

"We have just begun Advanced Calculus, Mother."

"Indeed. Where are you with the scientists?"

"We just finished reviewing why Einstein's Theory of Relativity may not sill be true, and have now moved onto Theoretical Psychology, m'am."

"Freud?"

"Yes, m'am."

"And how have your teachings with the Miss Underwood been?"

"W-" I started, but was interrupted by the devil herself walking into the dining hall. "Forgive me, your Ladyship, but I have been under the weather as of late, and thus missed this important occasion. If I may be permitted, then I would like to give you a summary of all we've done, and return to my quarters to rest off what's left of this sickness." She said, rasping up a storm as she did so. Her figure seemed much gaunter than yesterday. Her skin had become more wrinkled, and she was pale like a dead man fresh in his grave. My mother took the vine green portfolio and shooed her away. Miss Underwood curtsied and left the room quickly for one so sickly.

My mother scanned the first page then looked at me, "Adeline, be dear and read this allowed. It will not only show your strength in English, but also your pronunciation prowess."

I nodded my head as a servant brought it from my mother's hand into mine. I knew the real reason I was reading this aloud, but of course said nothing.

"Miss Aadeline has improved in many areas including table manners and ballroom dancing. Though not the most graceful, she does carry a commanding presence when entering and exiting the room."

I took a deep breath and continued, "She needs more work on riding sidesaddle, and proper poise for reading materials not only to herself, but to others." I sat up more at those words.

"She does not yet hold her head at the correct angle and her jaw is still too relaxed. She doesn't receive proper amounts of sleep and has gained five pounds. We will continue to work on the lessons you have asked, and on overall improvement."

I set down the book and looked at my mother. She took another sip of her coffee and frowned, "This is most unsatisfying news, my Aadeline."


End file.
